How You Know
by Reilly Black
Summary: Dean mourned Cas when the Leviathans destroyed his body. Then he got a second chance to right the wrongs between him and his best friend when he found Emmanual. The only problem- Cas doesn't remember his past. When Dean tries to restore his memory, they make a discovery about Castiel's sexuality that prompts Dean to question his.
1. Back in Black

When Dean woke up, he was in a room. The room. The fancy room that Michael supposedly destroyed when he overtook Dean's half-brother's body before the fake apocalypse.

But nothing seemed to stay dead or destroyed anymore, not since he met the angels.

Dean blinked in the bright light that faded to the image of the room; the mark of angel magic. He looked around warily as he sat up on the edge of an elaborately gilded bed that he did not remember existing before. He was in an adjoining bedroom, which connected without a barrier to the room with the giant pile of bacon cheeseburgers and the bucket of ice and beer.

He waited, looking around him for the angel responsible to make an appearance. The fuckers liked to pop up out of nowhere with smug looks on their faces. He didn't care for angels, not since the only angel he trusted betrayed him for a pact with a demon.

Dean looked around for a weapon. A pen on the rococo style bedside table might do in a pinch, though it wouldn't do much more than distract the angel in question for half a second.

"Dean. You can't really think that will work against me." He didn't notice Castiel appear, but he rarely did. Dean jumped at the sound, his heart sinking. Just the angel he hoped wouldn't be behind this.

"Better than nothing." Dean grunted. The sight of Castiel, his head tilted at that particular, perpetually confused angle, his long trenchcoat hanging off his shoulders like a heavy blanket that somehow never seemed to tire him, caused a boiling mixture of rage and sadness to bubble up in his chest. He could barely look at him.

"What do you want? Why did you bring me here?" His voice was a low growl.

"I don't want anything. I'm all powerful. I am God."

"Then blink me back to my own bed, damn it! I have nothing to say to you." Dean said with fierce insistence.

"You are upset because of what I did to Sam."

"Yeah, I'm upset!" Dean spat out, clear by his tone that it was the biggest understatement of the year. "Let me go, Cas. I'm warning you."

"Dean, I'm God. Watch yourself." Castiel said sternly. Dean bit his tongue. How could this bastard have the guile to act as though Dean should treat him with anything but disdain? Still, Dean was afraid. He was man enough to admit it. He'd had dealings with near omnipotent beings before and it never turned out well for him.

He opted for stubborn silence instead. Castiel let it hang between them for a while before he spoke.

"I want to know why. Why could you not trust me? After all I gave to you… all I did for you? I asked you for one thing and you refused me." Castiel said. Castiel very rarely showed any sort of emotion in his voice, one of his Angel characteristics, but now Dean detected a hint of hurt. He found that strange as Castiel claimed to be the new God and human emotion seemed beneath that kind of species.

"Why?" Dean stood from his seat on the bed and walked around to the other side, agitated and in need of the action to soothe him self. "Can't you just crack open my head and look into my memories or something?"

"God always respected free will in his creations. I will as well." Castiel said evenly.

Dean glared at him. He couldn't help it. That damn neutral tone of his, the near expressionless face- he hated it now. It used to be endearing.

"You forget that I lost my brother more than once to deals with demons. Just because I loved you like a brother doesn't mean I had to, or should, stand behind your every decision. Brothers call brothers out on their stupid ideas."

Something sparked through Cas when Dean said 'loved', a ripple of emotion. Dean thought he might have imagined it, but if it was a hallucination it started a kernel of hope in him that was hard to squash. Maybe Cas wasn't 100% untouchable being after all. Maybe there was some small part of the Cas he knew left in there.

"But it worked. I was right."

"You made a deal with the King of Hell." Dean said dismissively.

"But it worked."

"Against the odds. It was still a piss poor idea." Dean shook his head, clenching his jaw in remembered anger.

"Dean." Cas said, and Dean's eyes snapped back to him at the faint tone of pleading, but Cas wasn't where he left him- he was closer now, merely a foot away from him.

"Why are we here now? Why can't we be as we were?" Cas whispered.

"You broke down the wall in my brother's head and let in the Devil." Dean reminded him, his lip curling into a snarl.

"You came after me. I would have fixed it, had you only stayed put." Cas reminded him.

"You knew. You knew I would never stay away. You knew that wouldn't work." And the real betrayal leaked out into his words, the one that really stung him to his core, that made if impossible to forgive the creature in front of him, "You never planned on fixing Sammy to begin with, before that power morphed your mind into whatever it is now."

Castiel stared at him.

"What else could I do?"

"It doesn't matter what you could have done, it matters what you did." Dean said, his voice coarse with anger.

Castiel looked away, at the decorative wall, then back at Dean.

"What if I fixed him now?"

Dean blinked.

"What?"

"I have the power, and perhaps the will."

"_Perhaps_?" Dean had dealt with far too many manipulative demons not to catch the word choice.

"If you would forgive me, and we could go back to what we were." Castiel said softly, his deep blue eyes flicking back and forth between Dean's.

Dean's heart lept. He wasn't blind to Sammy's suffering. He knew what it was like to remember Hell, god did he know, and Sammy's Hell had likely been much worse. Anything he could do to take that away, he would. Even if it meant stomping on his own pride, because he certainly didn't feel like forgiving Castiel anytime in the near ever.

"Ok." Dean agreed, his voice shaking with the effort to make it sound friendly. Cas's eyes narrowed.

"You have to mean it, Dean. You must actually forgive me."

Dean wanted to scream at him, "Why? Why does it matter to an all-powerful God whether I forgive you or not? Why do you care so much about me now, with the rest of the world's problems on your hands?"

Instead, he said gruffly,

"I'll forgive you, alright? You do this for Sammy, and I'll do whatever you want." It was a defeated statement, but Dean wasn't a good actor and he was putting all his energy into hiding his anger.

Castiel's intense stare pressed into him, his eyes narrowing again. Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them.

"It is done."

"The wall? You put it back up?" Dean asked, his fists clenching at his side as hope surged through him.

"I did." Castiel nodded.

A shaky breath of relief escaped Dean. He put a hand to his head, rubbing his eyes as he spun around on his heel. The deep press of worry lifted off his chest, a feeling he wasn't used to. Usually whatever he worried about came to pass.

"Thank you." Dean made himself look at Castiel. He willed his resentment toward him to recede, as he _really wasn't_ a good actor.

"You're welcome." Castiel responded, equally quiet. He took a step closer, but he was already too close to begin with. Dean tensed. Castiel saw.

"Dean." He said, his voice deep and warning.

"You have to give me some time, Cas." Dean said, almost exasperated. "You can't expect me to magically be fine. I've been angry at you for a while now."

Castiel let a breath go, and it might have been in irritation, Dean wasn't sure. Dean wondered again what a God would need human emotions for and doubted his ears.

"Alright."

Dean blinked and he was lying in his own bed again, the light from the flickering lamp by his bedside the only source of illumination in the room.

* * *

"You and your freaking salads. You just escaped Hell in your head, do you think you could learn to live a little? Appreciate life? _Eat a goddamn cheeseburger_?" Dean frowned as Sam picked lightly at his salad, engrossed in his laptop.

"Well, as it turns out I might actually live to a sane old age, so I would still like to take care of my body." Sam argued with a quiet smile, his eyes still glued to his screen.

Dean bit into his own delicious, greasy meat in a bun and made a noise of satisfaction that caused Sam to look up. Dean drew at his beer and smacked his lips with relish.

"Fine. I'll take a beer next time the waitress comes over, all right?" Sam rolled his eyes.

"That's my Sammy boy!" Dean grinned.

"You do know that beer has next to no nutritional value whatsoev-"  
"Shut up and drink."

They clinked their beers together when the waitress brought Sam's beer. Dean couldn't keep the smile off his face after he downed half of his in one swig. Cas was wreaking havoc over all the 'false prophets' of the world, but otherwise they had nothing else big on their plates. That wasn't even really on their 'plate', as Cas was too powerful to attempt to stop, and besides he couldn't really complain about the sorts of things Cas was attacking. Cas hadn't been by to bother Dean since he magicked Sam's head, and the monster count appeared to be at a record low, likely indirectly or directly due to Cas's tyrade.

Dean actually found himself humming as he chewed his burger. He couldn't remember the last time he'd hummed. He couldn't really remember the last time he'd felt so light, either. His brother was fine. Bobby was fine. They weren't tracking any demons at the moment. Dean was chewing fast food while thinking about, and more importantly _worrying about_, nothing. His life was as close to good as it ever got.

"Hello."

Dean froze at the sound before turning to see the familiar trench coat and loose tie.

"Cas!" Sam whispered in surprise. Sam gaped at him as he stood awkwardly next to their booth.

"Hello, Sam. You look well."  
"No thanks to you." Sam replied after a stunned moment. "I never got a chance to properly thank you for that."  
"I heard your prayers." Castiel said simply. "There was no need for it though, I was responsible for your illness in the first place. I am sorry about that."

"Well, that's true." Dean found himself grumbling. Sam shot him a look that said something like 'hey he's omnipotent so maybe try not to piss him off'.

Dean felt a powerful pinching in his chest, painful and warm and syrupy. He cleared his throat, the pressure of Castiel's even stare a little too unnerving given his new superpowers. The Cas he remembered was a powerful soldier, but always a bit childlike to Dean. Dean never felt threatened by Cas, often just the opposite, like he had to take care of him in many respects. The new and not necessarily improved Cas, however…

"Dean, has sufficient time passed for you to forgive me?"

Sammy shot Dean a look that Dean ignored.

"I'm working on it, Cas. Gettin' there." He cleared his throat again.

"Would it help if I joined you for a beer?" Cas asked, looking around the dingy diner with mild curiosity.

"Uhhh."

"Sure." Sam answered for him, scooting over in his booth and pulling his laptop and disgusting salad out of the way. Cas looked genuinely touched and thanked him in a far too sincere sort of way before sliding in next to him. It reminded Dean of the old Cas, the incredibly awkward Cas. He looked uncomfortable sitting there, as though he wasn't expecting the plastic to be as hard as it was, or the fluorescent lights above the table to irritate his eyes. Dean took another bite of his burger. Somehow it tasted less delicious.

"Ok, well." Dean was struck by how ridiculous the situation was- he was having a beer with God. What the hell were they supposed to talk about? He went for sarcasm he knew Cas wouldn't get. "How's punishing all the nonbelievers going, Cas?"  
Cas sort of smiled.

"Well."

"Sounds like it. We see your handiwork on the news from time to time." Sam chimed in.

"I've not tried to hide it." Castiel shrugged.

"Kudos for disbanding the KKK, by the way." Sam gave him a nervous thumbs-up.

"Thank you." Castiel said hesitantly. "I've wanted to address that problem for quite a while now."

"What's that?" Dean nodded at Cas' hand, the edge of what looked like an angry red welt peeking out from under his sleeve.

"It's nothing. It's difficult for this vessel to contain the power I've absorbed, that's all." Cas pulled his sleeve down, temporarily covering the welt. Alarm bells went off in Dean's head and he exchanged a look of worry with Sam.

"You're not going to explode or anything, are you?"

Castiel stared at him.

"No."

"You going to fix that, then?" Dean asked pointedly, a harsh edge to his words. He'd had a bad feeling about Cas's God plan since square one, and he still didn't trust it.

"Yes."

"Great." Dean growled, taking another irritable bite out of his burger before deciding it completely lost its flavor. He set it down for good, appetite gone.

"You're still angry." Cas observed, his sea blue eyes narrowed at him for the millionth time.

"I'm not. I'm just wondering why you've got chickenpox when you're supposed to be all powerful."

"It's temporary." Castiel quirked his head to the side.

"All right." Dean said, his voice tense.

"I thought we had an agreement, Dean."

Sam shifted, and Dean knew what he was thinking because he was thinking it too: Cas built the wall back up in Sam's head, he could easily knock it over again in a second.

Dean slammed his hand down on the table.

"So, what? Are you going to threaten to unclog the crazy drain in Sam's head every time I piss you off? You want to make me your little bitch?"

Castiel glowered at him and Dean felt his skin heat with electricity, the hairs on his arm standing to attention.

"I do not want you as my bitch." Castiel's voice was that of a petulant child admitting a teacher was right all along.

"Then stop with the friggen' agreement, alright? I'll forgive you when I forgive you."

Sam tried to diffuse the tension with small talk, and Castiel eventually went along with it. Cas took one swallow of his beer, made a face, and set it down. Dean thought about that fragile wall in Sam's head and did his best, but the ache in his heart didn't stop. It grew to the point where Dean couldn't even speak, he just played with his beer and beer cap and kept his eyes down, away from the deep sky blue irises. Then he became aware of a long silence and had no choice but to look up, and when he met them, their piercing quality, the warm, gooey, burningacid in his stomach lurched.

Sam looked like he wanted to say something, anything, but then Cas pushed his barely touched beer over to Dean.

"I'll go." He said, his intense expression never easing. Then there was just the hard plastic seat and the space where Cas used to sit. The goo in his chest evaporated into nothingness with his disappearance.

* * *

It was weeks later when it happened. Dean and Sam threaded their way carefully through an old factory, filled with the smell of tar and dirt, on the hunt for a djinn, and Cas appeared, covered in blood, on the floor before them. Dean was suddenly sick to his stomach and his feet ran without his brain ever having to tell them until he was pulling Cas's head up gingerly from the floor, wiping blood from his face to see his expression.

"Dean… help." Cas whispered, his voice scratchy. Sam threw a panicked look at Dean before pulling his cell phone from his pocket.

"Cas, this- this isn't your blood- what did you do?" Dean searched for a wound, finding nothing but the angry red boils all over Cas' body.

"I killed them… I killed them all….the innocent, the guilty…. I…can't….. you must…." Cas touched a hand to Dean's cheek, his voice cracked and throaty.

"Ok, Cas, just tell me what to do." Dean said, his jaw clenched.

They did the ritual, and the leviathans rose up. Cas wandered out into the lake, with Dean and Sam's eyes on his back, and the blackness sunk out into the drinking water, and all Dean could think was _come back up, come back to me, come on Cas- I'm not there, but I'll get there I promise I will._

He walked down to the water and fished out the floating trench coat, and that night he laid awake in the darkness, running his thumb along the fabric over and over again, staring up into the blackness and hoping for a miracle he didn't dare expect but desperately wanted.

* * *

Dean carried the trench coat in the back of his car, unable to part from it for very long. Sometimes he would go to grab a weapon, some salt, a gallon of holy water, and he stopped, just for a moment or two, to brush a hand over the fabric, memorizing the feel. Course, cheap threads, nylon-esque. The beige stained now with river dirt- he couldn't bring himself to wash it for months. It had touched Cas, wrapped his body in warmth, slid along his skin.

He hid it from Sammy in the extra tire compartment, but Sammy found it eventually. Wanted to have a full-on feelings intervention, tying it to his increased liquor intake.

"You were doing so well." Sam said, hands shaking as he stripped his jacket and boots off. Dean collapsed into the bed, his head light and his stomach lurching. "You were getting better."

In the silence Dean remember the other pain he wanted to dull- the screams for mercy, the sight of sharp objects piercing flesh, the smell of burning insides.

"He knew that you cared about him, Dean."

"Shut the fuck up, Sam." Dean whispered back. If Sam thought talking about it was going to do any good, he was wrong.

He was dead. He was never coming back.

* * *

"Emmanuel." Dean gaped at the man staring at him, his heart exploding in his chest. He couldn't be- but he was. He was looking right at him, and it was impossible to forget that face, his eyes bright against his dark sweater, looking so unlike Cas in that change of clothes. Cas looked up at him, a mixture of confusion and fear taught in the line of his mouth.

He said nothing, only edged cautiously past him and through the door, hurrying over to the woman tied to the chair. The house looked entirely too normal: potted plants, the faint smell of french toast, the floral print curtains.

Then the woman stood up, freed of her bindings, and pressed her hands against Cas's chest, running them up along his cheek in a familiar way.

Cas held her hand and drew closer to Dean.

"I'm Emmanuel."

He came to this house not knowing what to expect, but definitely not this.

"Dean." He surprised himself when his voice came out as steady as it did. He shook his hand. Maybe he could get on board with this amnesia. They could start over, forget all the ugly conflict between them. Dean was ready to start over now.

"Thank you for protecting my wife."

Dean drew a breath, feeling like Cas had kicked him in the stomach. He told himself it was because this was another loose string he had to cut, and it wasn't going to be pretty.

"Wife?" He heard himself say, his mouth suddenly dry.

Cas didn't remember demons. That was a problem, a real problem, but somehow it didn't clench his gut the same way. Dean processed it mechanically, rather than emotionally. He reasoned he would have to explain it all as demons had already tied up his wife and intruded on his house. They would keep coming.

"Emmanuel has very special gifts." The woman said, sliding her hand affectionately along Cas's arm. She seemed like a nice lady, but Dean hated her.

"Look…" Dean couldn't stop staring at Cas, finding his change of clothing highly unsettling. "You said you found Cas, that it was like a miracle." He made himself look at the woman, who was listening intently, smiling a little and nodding in agreement. "Well, unfortunately, you were right. Cas is…he's an Angel. That might be hard to believe, but he is." Dean struggle with his next words. "Thank you for taking care of him, but he has to come with me."

Castiel's eyes widened with shock.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, Ca- Emmanuel." Dean said, though he didn't feel it. He wanted out of this house now, and he wanted to drag Cas out with him, "You're a soldier, an important one, and the thing that tied her up- he's not alone. They'll keep coming. The only way to protect her is to leave. We need your help anyway, and we know how to fight them, but we can only take care of each other if we stick together."

"I'm a soldier? But I heal people." Cas said faintly. His 'wife' clutched at his sleeve.

"Well." Dean shrugged. "You can also do a hell of a lot of damage when you want." Dean said. Cas simply stared at him in shocked silence. Dean let a breath go. "Look, not to point fingers, but you actually started the war we're in right now."

"I did?"

"Yeah, you did." Dean said. "You didn't mean to, but you opened a can of worms and we've been trying to shove them back in over the past couple of months. It hasn't been pretty."

Cas swallowed and looked down.

"I'm very sorry."

Dean immediately regretted his impatient words. He'd just got him back and now he was yelling at him again.

"I just- I need your help, that's all. Please trust me." Dean said, gruff, trying to sound gentler.

Cas stared at him a moment longer before turning to his wife. She looked bewildered and sad and more than a little upset with Dean, but she had kept her silence up until then.

"I'm sorry, Daphne." Cas said softly. Tears sprang to her eyes.

"You're going to go with him?"

"I can't explain, but I feel that everything he's saying- it's the truth. I'm so sorry."

Daphne wiped at her eyes, sniffing. She kissed Cas softly.

"You fell into my life, and now you're falling out of it. You have been a blessing to me, and though what this man is saying is difficult to believe…. I trust you. I'm- I'm only sad that I have to let you go."

"I'm sorry." Cas said again, his hand drifting through her hair. Dean walked over to the door and looked out at the suburban block.

Cas's touch at his shoulder alerted him when the goodbyes were over. They walked down the stairs together in silence.

* * *

"Goddamn leviathans and their goddamn face stealing." Dean muttered as he gripped the remote control. Castiel hovered on the edge of the bed, chin in his palm, watching intently. Dick, so appropriately named, was going on about his new food components, using bullshit marketing words like "pure" and "natural".

"And that will-"

"Turn you into cattle, yeah. Slow and stupid easy pickings for Leviathan breakfast." Dean muttered.

"I did this." It was a low moan.

Dean stared at his hunched backside in silence.

"Not on purpose." He said softly.

"Intent is irrelevant, Dean, you should know that by now. The path to hell-"

"Is paved with good intentions, I know." Dean rolled his eyes. "Cut yourself some slack. Intentions matter. They're the difference between repeating your mistakes and atoning for them."

Cas looked over his shoulder, and for a long tense moment he didn't say anything.

"You are a good friend, Dean." Cas said, a weak smile on his face.

Dean tossed the remote on the bed haphazardly. Sammy was out doing something of import. It was a Friday night. The buzz of the cheap lights in the motel room hummed in their ears and Dick prattled on the tv, his smug face the very picture of sociopathy.

"So, how was married life?"

Cas glanced back him once more.

"Well considering it's all I can remember… not bad. Daphne was a very nice woman."

"You know, I once took you to a brothel because we thought we might die in the morning and you let slip that you'd never even tossed down with an Angel lady. Which, by the way, I have and you missed out big time, buddy."

"Oh?" Castiel rubbed a hand behind his head, the movement stiff and awkward.

"Yeah, but you scared off your date by talking about her daddy issues." Dean chuckled at the memory, the way they'd ran out the backdoor to avoid security, the prostitute screaming bloody murder at them.

"Did I?"

Dean laughed, and when his laughter died down Castiel turned to sit so they were facing each other, a slight smile hesitantly tugging at his lips.

"So, I gotta ask again- _how was married life_?" Dean meant to sound joking, good natured ribbing between two guys, but his throat tightened and it sounded more demanding than teasing.

Castiel looked away, and seemed to be reconsidering this new position where he was facing Dean.

"It wasn't like that. I'm still- I mean, I didn't really feel comfortable."

"No shit." Dean whispered. He hadn't realized his chest was tight until the pressure was gone and he had to laugh at how light he felt. Castiel frowned and blushed. "Sorry, sorry. It's just- you're still the same old Cas. How did she put up with that?"

Cas looked around, as though for an escape route, before he seemed to realize he had to answer Dean. "She was very religious." Cas said, clearly uncomfortable. "She didn't mind waiting until I was, um, ready."

"Generous girl." Dean chuckled again, picking the remote control back up and toying with it.

"That's an Angel thing, right?"

"What is?"

"A lack of attraction to the opposite sex?" Castiel said, innocently curious. Dean froze.

"A lack of attraction in general?" Dean said slowly, "Or a lack of attraction just to girls?"

Castiel furrowed his brow.

"Are you suggesting-" Castiel looked even more confused. "That I might be gay?"

"Hey, you're the one who said you don't like girls. I'm just putting the pieces together here." Dean threw his hands up in defense. His heart had sped up for no reason. Castiel looked incredibly confused, like he was doing some soul searching and ending up nowhere. "But… I'm pretty sure it's not just an Angel thing. I've slept with an Angel before, and she seemed to have no problem with, uh, attraction."

"I've never thought about it." Castiel said, looking off into nowhere in particular, "I don't know. The situation never presented itself."

Dean's eyebrows shot up.

"Alright, well. I can't help you there, sorry." Dean scooted off the bed and stood, stretching, mostly for an excuse to move the jitter out of his limbs.

"But Dean, how would I find this out?" Castiel asked quickly. "Now I'm very unsure."

"Uuuuh, buddy, I don't know. You know what? Maybe you're not. Maybe you just weren't attracted to _her_. That's entirely possible." Dean scratched his head, looking anywhere but at Cas, flipping through channels with the remote before settling back onto the bed.

"Maybe." Castiel looked troubled, introspective. Dean tried to focus on whatever the fuck was on tv, some lizard eating a spider or something, to decide whether he should change the channel again, but Castiel's stillness was too distracting.

"Alright, let's go out. We'll find you a guy to hit on. You happy?"

"What?" Castiel looked up, alarmed.

"You've got that 'I just watched a puppy get shot' face on and I can't stand it. We'll settle this once and for all so you won't wallow in your existential crisis right in front of me."

He stood up and walked over to drag Castiel out of his frozen, deer-in-headlights

stare and onto his feet.

"Up we go, come on." Dean said roughly, smiling as he pointed Castiel to his shoes and insisted he put them on.

The bar was noisy and loud and maybe not the right place to try to smoke out a gay guy, but hey, they were stuck in the middle of the desert in Colorado and they had to take what they could get.

The cigarette smoke made Cas cough as they took their seat on high barstools and Dean ordered a beer.

"See anyone moderately attractive to you?" Dean asked.

"I'm not- I'm not used to looking at people like that. How do you know who's attractive to you and who's not?" Castiel asked, flabbergasted.

Dean scratched at his chin, exasperated.

"Oh my god. You just know, ok? I can't explain this to you."

Castiel looked down at his folded hands in reaction to Dean's tone.

Dean took a deep breath. He forgot how hard it was to talk to Cas sometimes. There was something so wrong about two grown-ass men having this conversation.

"There are physical signs." Dean said, his eyes skyward, his teeth gritted together.

"OH." Cas's eyes were as round as his lips as he uttered the word.

"Yeah, you understand now? So you've gotten one before?"

"Yes." Cas said quickly. "Do you get… physical signs… every time you're attracted to someone? Or is that only sometimes? Do you have to be attracted to them to get it?"

"No, but that's a pretty good indicator."

Cas stared at him, tilting his head to the side. Then panic crossed his expression and Dean wasn't sure why but he looked away very quickly.

"Dean. I don't want to do this."

Dean laughed.

"I know you don't, buddy, but you're a pain in my ass until we get this sorted out so we're doing it."  
"Dean." Cas pleaded.

"How about him?" Dean asked pointing over Cas's shoulder. He literally twisted in his seat to stare at the guy. Dean had to reach over and pull Cas back into a normal position.

"Not like that! Suave, casual. Don't be so goddamn obvious!" Dean hissed, slumping over, hiding behind his hand and checking between his fingers to make sure the guy hadn't noticed Cas's incredibly direct approach.

"Well, I don't know!" Cas said, looking panicky again. "You didn't tell me!"

"I'm telling you now- suave, casual. Alright?"

Cas stared at him like he was thinking about vomiting on the table before teleporting out.

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Relax, dude. You're just going to talk to someone, like you're talking with me now. It's not that scary. You don't have to go fuck in the back of the impala or anything."

"Dean!" Castiel hissed, horrified.

"I'm saying you _don't_ have to do that." Dean sighed, rubbing his eyes. He couldn't help a little smile. "Not that I would let you. Though I might loan you the motel room for the night if you're really desperate. I can be charitable."

"Dean!" Cas repeated, his eyes wider than Dean had ever seen them.

"You wouldn't say it like that if you knew what you were missing." Dean chuckled. "You'd be thanking me, believe me."

Castiel nervously folded and unfolded a napkin on the table.

"What do I even say?" He wondered hesitantly.

"You say, 'Hi, my name is Cas.'" Dean fished a couple of bucks out of his wallet and slid them over to Cas. "'Can I buy you a drink?'"

Cas slowly lifted the bills off the table.

"Say it, Cas." Dean said flatly. After Cas's version of 'checking someone out', Dean had to quality check every ounce of flirting Cas could muster before releasing him on someone else.

"Hi, my name is… Cas…. Can I buy you a…drink." Cas faltered on every other word.

"Ok, now say it like you don't expect me to hit you over the head and steal your kidneys."

Castiel stared.

"Hi, my name is Cas. Can I buy you a drink?"

"Much better." That metaphor worked like a charm.

"But Dean, what if they say no?"

"Then you smile politely and come back here." Dean shrugged.

Cas's eyes grew wide again.

"But what if they say yes?"

"Then you have a beer, flirt a little bit, see if you get any, you know, under the table salute. Now, pick someone." Dean said, impatient with hand-holding him through such common sense.

Cas swallowed hard.

"You pick. I can't." He said quickly.

Dean scoured the bar. There wasn't a lot to choose from, but he didn't think that guy he'd pointed out earlier noticed Cas's obvious move. He looked attractive enough, and he didn't seem to be particularly interested in the girl sitting next to him and occasionally attempting to flirt with him. She was pretty cute by Dean's standards, so that left a reasonably good chance that he was simply not interested in girls, right?

"Try it on him."

Cas nodded and stood from his stool. A thought occurred to Dean and he reached out to grab Cas's hand.

"But, Cas, this is important- you know that people aren't always… well, aren't always accepting. You have to be careful."

Castiel looked beyond frustrated.

"Dean, I don't know what that means."

"It means that if he looks angry or freaked out in any way, you laugh it off. You say your friend bet you fifty bucks to hit on a guy and then you come back here and we leave, alright?" Dean couldn't believe he hadn't thought of this sooner. They were_ in the middle of nowhere in Colorado_.

"…Ok." Cas seemed even more nervous now.

"Ok." Dean nodded, suddenly as nervous as Cas seemed.

Cas approached the man, wiping his likely sweaty palms on his trenchcoat as he did. Dean watched carefully, looking over the man's body language as Cas approached, ready to jump from his seat if he ran into any trouble.

Cas was too stiff, and his eyes kept darting over to the flirty girl eyeing him suspiciously, but he got through the line. The man looked him over, glanced at the girl next to him, and for a split second Dean could have sworn something like interest flitted through him, but then he shook his head and turned back to his drink, ignoring Castiel. Castiel looked desperately back at Dean for instructions and Dean motioned for him to return.

"Ok, so he wasn't into it. That happens sometimes." _At least he didn't punch you out from homophobia_, Dean thought grimly.

"He wasn't into it." Cas repeated like Dean was teaching him another line. He looked around the bar, a little more confident, despite the fact that he'd just been openly rejected. "Should I try again?"

"Actually, Cas." Dean sighed. "We should call it a night."

"I thought you said-"

"I know, but I was an idiot. I don't know what I was thinking. It's not the same for you as it is for me." Dean said, and his heart sank a little at the thought. Cas couldn't just walk into any bar and try to pick someone up without the threat of some dudes cornering him in an alley afterward. Not that Cas couldn't take them all down, but he had no protection against hateful words like he did against human punches. Dean didn't want him to have to deal with that side of humanity on a personal level.

Castiel nodded slowly, relieved.

"Great."

They walked back up the steps and Dean jimmied the keys into the door. Sam still wasn't there. Dean called, and Sam whispered quickly that he was at some girl's house, not to worry.

At least someone was getting lucky tonight.

Cas wandered into the room, quieter than usual, absorbed in his own thoughts. Dean crossed his arm behind his head and flipped the tv on, but Cas was standing next to the tv, playing absently with the antenna, and it caused snow every three seconds. Dean's heart was too heavy to yell at him. Instead, he just flipped the tv off.

"Well, thank you Dean." Cas straightened when he realized Dean's full attention was on him. "I suppose. I guess I'll go."  
"You don't have to." Dean said quietly. Cas looked around.

"Well, our night is over, isn't it?"

Dean never asked if people were ok because he hated when people asked him that. It was obvious when someone was upset. What a stupid question. He never wanted to talk his feelings out like Sammy constantly pushed him to do, it didn't do any good. He wanted a distraction, not a heart-to-heart.

"There's some beer in the fridge. Toss me one, keep one for yourself."

Dean drank until he laughed freely and openly. Cas overcame his aversion to the taste, probably out of some incessant need to please Dean that Dean would never understand, and drank until his cheeks and nose were pink. The last time they'd tried to get him drunk, it took three times the amount of alcohol before he started to 'feel it', but this time was different for some reason. Maybe Cas had been brought back more human than Angel, Dean wasn't sure. They each sat on a bed, and Dean did most of the talking. Cas didn't remember enough to have much to say. He asked about their previous 'adventures' as he called them, about how they met, about Sammy, about the impala, about Dean and his conquests. He asked a lot of questions about sex that Dean didn't have patience to answer. Which led them back into the 'gay' thing.

"What about that prostitute I tried to set you up with?" Dean asked after a long gulp. A pleasant buzz started in his ears and his fingertips were numb.

Cas stroked the beer bottle shyly.  
"Before you scared her off- did you want to get down and dirty with her? It seems like you upset her on accident."

"That was accidental, but… I didn't have a 'physical reaction' to her." Cas replied delicately, staring intently at the bottle.

Well, she was hot, so that didn't bode well for the straight card. Dean didn't say that, though.

"Don't worry about it, man. It's not a big deal if you like guys." Dean's words were a little slurred. "I don't care about that shit."  
Cas smiled at that, propping his head sleepily on his fist.

"I couldn't bear it if you did. I would fight it."

"Cas, don't say that."

"I would have sex with a girl, if it would make you happy, Dean." Cas said, his eyelids drooping. He was smiling at Dean in that loopy way people do when they're so tired they don't care anymore.

"Cas, that's fucking twisted. Don't say that ever again."

"I would, though. I would never look at a man again if you didn't want me to."

Dean got up, sloppily, and tripped the small space between the beds to press his hand against Cas's mouth.

"Stop. I don't care, alright? For Christ's sake, I was trying to help you hit on guys tonight." He swayed on his feet.

Cas lifted his hand to Dean's, his fingers ghosting over the back of it. Dean watched with slow fascination, a hard lump growing in his throat. Then he felt Cas press a kiss to his palm, uncoordinated and unrestrained, his hand settling over Dean's fully now. Dean pulled his hand away.

The room was tilting a bit, but Dean was sober enough to know the atmosphere changed completely. Cas looked at him with guileless affection, his smile soft and his eyes hooded.

"I would." He repeated.

"Cas." Dean licked his dry lips. He could hear the blood pump through his ears.

"Do you know… how I know what a 'physical reaction' is?" Cas said, laughing as though it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back until it rested against the bed frame. "I get them for you, Dean. All the time. I didn't know… I didn't realize that's what that meant. I thought my body was malfunctioning."

Dean's breath hitched in his throat and he stood frozen. He didn't know how the fuck to respond to that. Luckily, Castiel started to snore and he didn't have to form a response. He did have to sit down, though. The whole world was tilting on its axis.

Dean wondered briefly when Cas had started sleeping. He was pretty sure Angels didn't need that. Maybe it was the booze, which also wasn't supposed to affect him.

Dean lay back against the pillows and prayed Cas wouldn't remember a word he said.

* * *

He didn't mention anything beyond how bad his head hurt and how dry his throat was, moaning in pain as he stumbled to the bathroom to throw up his insides. Dean hissed at him to shut up and turn the lights off.

They met Sam at a surprisingly clean diner.

"You look like hell." Sam muttered.

"Battle scars from a great night, Sammy."

Sam shook his head, smiling.

"Did you have a great night, Sam?" Cas asked, groaning a bit and leaning his head against the side of the booth.

"What did you teach him?" Sam asked in response to Cas's overly obvious attempt at innuendo.

"Cas has been learning about human pleasures." Dean explained with a grin.

"You… _corrupted_ an Angel?"

"There's nothing corrupt about sex, Sam. If you think so, then you're doing it wrong."

"Dean thinks I'm gay." Cas moaned. It was a quiet complaint over how much inconvenience the ambiguity of the question had caused him in the last 24 hours.

"What?" Sam blinked.

"Dean thinks I'm gay." He repeated louder as though he thought volume was the reason for Sam's confusion.  
Actually, Dean _knew_ he was gay. He avoided the look Sam tried to exchange with him.

"Seriously?" Sam said out loud when that didn't work.

"Well he doesn't like girls, and I know firsthand that Angel's get horny, remember?"

"Anna." Realization dawned in Sam's eyes. "Dean, she was a _fallen _Angel."

"Look, fallen or not- an Angel is just like a Demon in that they both take over _human_ bodies, with _human_ desires and _human_ functions. Demon's can and do fuck. You know that firsthand."

"But my host was not gay," Cas grumbled. "So why would I be?"

"Yeah, why would he be?" Sam wondered accusingly, as though Dean was playing a mean practical joke on Cas in confusing him about his sexuality.

"Jesus, Sam, we ran some tests. It's pretty certain at this point. Don't ask me why, how would I know?" Dean couldn't say exactly how certain without letting too much information through.

"That's strange. Were you gay in heaven, Cas?"  
Cas let an exaggerated sigh go, irritable in his hungover state.

"I'm an _Angel_. God made us as soldiers. We don't spend a lot of time on pleasure, or emotion for that matter."

"Right." Sam grinned and started to wolf down his fruit salad. _Goddamn salad for breakfast too. _

"Well this obnoxious human body needs to relieve itself." Cas muttered, waving at Dean to scoot out of the booth. Dean obliged and watched Cas shuffle away to the bathroom.

He eyed Sam, wondering if he should try talking to him about it. But that could lead to the type of feelings conversation Dean hated. Unfortunately, he eyed him for too long and Sam noticed.

"What?" He wiped his lips with a napkin.

Dean was quiet. He decided to tell him, opened his mouth, and then changed his mind against it.

"Oh, come on." Sam frowned.

"I think Cas might have a little crush on me." Dean whispered, eyes darting to the bathroom.

"Why would you think that?" Sam leaned in, probably because Dean was speaking so quietly he could barely hear himself.

"Because he told me. Why do you think?"

"Wow, really? You two don't look awkward at all. What did you say?" Sam looked far too amused.  
"I didn't have to say anything, he passed out drunk after he said it."

"That's convenient." Sam snorted.

"He doesn't remember."

"Clearly."

Dean ground his teeth, irritated by his brother's lack of solemnity regarding the situation.

"You're the expert on these things- what the fuck do I do?"  
"How am I…?" Sam started, then glanced at the bathroom, seeming to realize how little time they had, "Whatever. Obviously you have two options- you bring it up or you don't."

"Yeah, but which one _should_ I do?" Dean rolled his eyes at Sam's obvious answer.

"He doesn't remember his life, Dean. He's probably just attached to you because you're helping him so much when he needs it. I would wait until his memories return- maybe he'll remember what a pain in the ass you are and get over it."

Cas chose that moment to exit the bathroom. Dean scowled at Sam and jerked his head in Cas's direction. Sam started shoveling fruit into his mouth again.

Dean tried not to stare as Cas approached them, but his attention caught on a man who intercepted Cas's path. Cas looked surprised, then bashful. Dean watched them talk for two minutes, completely confused- Cas had other human friends?

The man pressed something into his hand before returning to a table on the other side of the restaurant.

"Who was that?" Dean asked suspiciously as Cas scooted back in.

"You don't recognize him? That's the man I attempted to talk to last night."

Dean choked on his coffee.

"What did he want?" Dean asked, his voice dark with protective instinct.

"He gave me his phone number, told me to call him." Cas shrugged.

Sam gaped, a half smile starting on his face. Cas obviously did not realize the significance of this. The level of obliviousness Cas had in regards to everyday, common sense occurrences physically hurt Dean.

"Look at Cas go." Sam laughed.

Dean's stomach lurched and he wondered if maybe it was something he ate.

"Why didn't he just do that last night?"

"He told me he wanted to be 'discreet'." Cas actually used air quotes properly.

Dean stabbed his eggs with his fork.

"Yeah, because a waffle house is goddamn discreet." Dean muttered. Sam stared at him strangely before returning his attention to Cas.

"You going to call him?"

"Should I call him, Dean?"

Dean paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. Sam's eyebrows shot up.

"Cas, you can call him if you want to call him. I don't know why you think that's my decision to make."

"Well you helped me flirt in the first place." Cas pointed out, sounding a little hurt. "You told me what to do and it worked, so I thought you might have more advice."

"I don't know, Cas. Nobody told me, I had to figure it out. You can figure it out fine for yourself, you're not a damn lemming. You have a human brain, too, in addition to a human dick."

"Jeez." Sam gave him that strange look again.

"What?" Dean said testily, impaling his sausage.

But Sam didn't clarify, and Dean didn't push. They ate the rest of their breakfast in silence.


	2. Somebody to Love

Dean wiped oil on his work jeans, breathing through his mouth to avoid the grimy smell. Despite the dirt hazards, working on his car soothed him. He was irritable lately, though he couldn't explain why when Sam called him out on it.

Dick wasn't improving his mood. The bastard had more manpower than they were equipped to deal with, and they hadn't had a break on how exactly they could deal with him in far too long.

Then there was Cas…

Dean couldn't stop thinking about the way Cas had looked at him, the feel of his lips against his palm. He wasn't quite sure what to do about the whole situation, but he hadn't mentioned it yet, just as Sam suggested.

Besides, Cas was off figuring out his sexuality on his own at the moment. He didn't seem too torn up about his little crush.  
Dean let the hood fall with a slam. He wiped his hands off fully on a rag and tossed it in the back before he locked her up.

"Did you figure out what that clicking sound was?" Sam asked as Dean closed the door to the hotel behind him. Dean grunted and grabbed his coat from the closet.

"I'm starved."

Sam closed his laptop. He picked his coat off the hook by the door and went for his coat.

"Will you go get her started? She needs to warm up." Dean tossed the keys to Sam, who nodded and left. Dean sat down on the edge of the bed and rested head in his hands for a moment.

God, he was tired, and so very irritable.

"It didn't work." Cas' maudlin voice drifted through the room.

"Holy mother of God!" Dean shot off the bed at the sound. Castiel was suddenly lying on the bed behind him.

"God doesn't have a mother, or not one that I know of." Cas squinted at him, unable to understand figure of speech as per usual.

"Cas, can't you ring a bell or a gong or something before you just show up in people's rooms? A little warning. That's all I'm asking for."

Cas sat up, his legs still splayed over the bed.

"Dean, I did not experience a physical attraction to Adam."

"Who?"

"Bar man!" Castiel clarified urgently. He stared at Dean in that intense way that Dean used to think creepy, but now it seemed almost… cute.

"Oh." Castiel's date for the night. Right.

"He kissed me and I didn't experience anything."

Dean flushed.

"He kissed you? What did you do?"

"I came here to tell you that I did not experience a physical reaction." Cas said impatiently, as though this should have been obvious already.

"What, you just teleported away in the middle of it?"

"Yes."

Dean started to laugh, really laugh. He had to grab the dingy chair to steady himself. After his day of pent up anger, it was a welcome release, one he didn't realize he needed so badly. A black cloud of anger seemed to gather around Castiel as he watched him.

"So my misfortune is amusing to you?"

"You are amusing to me."

Castiel's lip curled into a snarl, but then he deflated.

"First the prostitute, now this man. I must really be broken." Castiel sighed, reclining hopelessly back against the bed into his original position.

He didn't want to do this, really didn't want to, but Cas looked so pathetic lying there and staring at the ceiling listlessly.

"Just because you didn't get a woody for him doesn't mean you weren't attracted." Dean sighed. He sank into the chair and rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin. Castiel sat up again, his interest peeked. He leveled his intense gaze on Dean, and Dean couldn't help but squirm against such scrutiny.

"That's just one way to tell, a very clear sign. But you can have an emotional attraction to someone too."  
"And how would I distinguish that?"

Dean looked at his innocently curious expression and tried to remember that Cas was capable of great violence and military prowess. He could snap him in two if he wanted.

He couldn't say it to that face, so he said it to the wall, and his hands, and the denim of his jeans instead.

"You want to protect them. You respect them. You care when they're sad, rejoice when they're happy. They can never be too close. Even when you're fucking, it's not close enough. It'll never be close enough." It was a bad idea, and Dean didn't know why he did it, but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Do you… do you feel that way about anyone?"

Castiel was very quiet, so quiet Dean could hear his own heart beat. When Dean finally chanced to look up, Cas' stare was so grave it made the air around him feel heavy.

"Dean, what the hell are you doing in here?" Sam opened the door and broke the silence. Cas jumped and awkwardly rearranged himself on the bed so his feet swung off the sides.

"Oh. Hey Cas."

"Sam." Cas nodded, his gravelly voice taught.

"You ready to go?" Sam asked Dean. Dean was irritable again, even more than before.

"Yeah, alright."

"Cas, want to come with? We're going to dinner."

"I am hungry." Cas said with some confusion.

"Now wait just a minute." Dean's thoughts turned over quickly in his head. "Why are you hungry? And for that matter, why were you able to get so drunk the other night? You fell asleep. And- son of a bitch. The other night when we were talking you remembered how you felt about that prostitute I set you up with." Dean's mouth fell open. "How did you remember that?"

"Oh, I guess I did." Cas said mildly.

"You did what?" Sam groaned.

"Don't give me that 'oh I guess I did' bullshit! If your memories were starting to return, why didn't you say something?" Dean yelled, standing up.

Cas shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, when we were talking the other night… as you told me stories, I could remember them. I could picture what you were saying and how I felt at the time. But I don't remember everything, just bits and pieces. I've been remembering much more about being an Angel than of my life after I met you two."

"So why are you hungry and sleepy and running to the bathroom, then?" Sam wondered.

Castiel sighed.

"It's a side-effect. I haven't been back to heaven…. in months, close to a year. Not even one trip. I've started to acclimate to my human body."

"So you're turning human?" Dean wondered.

"Not exactly. I can't change species. I'm just more… in tune with my physical needs here. Usually I don't experience them, but… It's a slow process."

"Is that why you're freaking out over your sexual preference? Because I gotta tell you, Cas, I never pegged you for thinking twice about that kind of thing." Sam laughed under his breath.

"Oh, come on. Cas is different from most Angels. He rebelled, for Christ's sake. He thinks for himself, wonders about things other Angels wouldn't. I don't find it surprising at all." Dean shrugged.

"Thank you, Dean." Cas said softly.

Sam looked between them, and that strange expression overcame him. Dean broke contact with Cas, uncomfortable under his brother's scrutiny.

"Well Cas has the munchies for once, so let's indulge him."

* * *

"I do not understand how you humans get anything done with your tiny bladders and short intestines calling for your attention every few hours."

"Well, for one thing, we don't talk about it. For another, the process of filling those two things is pretty great, so we don't complain much." Dean bit off the end of another chicken finger to punctuate his words.

"Tell us about your date, Cas." Sam suggested.

"Uneventful." Cas shrugged.

"Indulge us." Sam seemed to harbor an intellectual curiosity when it came to Cas's sexual journey. It annoyed Dean to no end. "I mean, all's stale on the Leviathan front. We're still just as powerless as usual, and you recovering your memory is our best chance at finding a way to beat these things…. so, let's talk about your memories. New and old."

Cas took a slow breath.

"We ate dinner. He talked about his work and family. I talked about my amnesia and the fact that I am an angel, which he laughed at- I think he thought I was joking, but I decided not to correct him. Then he groped me under the table, dragged me into the men's bathroom and kissed me in a vacant stall."

"He did what?" The growl that came out of Dean was surprisingly low. Sam gaped at him a moment before he bit into his veggie burger.

"Oh really?" Sam said as soon as he finished chewing. Dean wanted to smack the amusement right out of Sam. How could he think some guy manhandling poor, innocent Cas was funny? "Then?"

Dean sipped aggressively at his straw.

"Then I teleported to Dean to tell him the experiment was a failure, or so I thought at the time. I did not experience a physical reaction to his violent advances."

"Violent? That fucker was violent with you? Alright, give me his number." Dean extended his hand over the table. Cas was startled by the action, but he fished around in his trench coat pocket.

"I seemed to have misplaced it." Cas eyed his empty, insistent hand with trepidation.

"Goddamn it. You see him again, you let me know."

Sam started to laugh out loud.

"What is your deal?" Dean demanded of Sam.

"I have to urinate. Again. This is exhausting." Cas complained as he stood from his chair and threaded his way to the bathroom.  
Sam watched Cas retreat, ignoring Dean. Dean was about to repeat his question with more force when Sam turned back to him, a giant grin plastered on his face.

"Should we set him up with someone else? Maybe a screening process this time: only applications where people checked the 'not sexually aggressive' box."

"That better be a joke." Dean frowned, jamming a chicken finger into the gloppy mess of honey mustard in his food basket.  
"Wow, I can't believe this but…" Sam shook his head slowly, still grinning. "You are jealous."

Dean turned to stare at him, his stomach dropping into his ass. He couldn't even form words to address the absurdity of that statement.

"You're a little slower than I, and_ Stanford_, assumed, Sammy. I'll spell it out for you, since the last I don't even know how many years on the road together haven't sunk in: I like women. A lot."

"And men, apparently. Or at least Cas. Definitely Cas." Sam was still grinning as he bit into his sandwich.

"Oh my god, this is some college crap, isn't it? I knew you were going to come back a hippie. Can't a guy just watch out for a friend without gettin' judged?"

"Will you just admit it? I mean, sure, I barely believe it myself, but you are jealous that Cas is getting groped in a bathroom stall by some guy that's not you."

"Shut up, Sam." Though Dean couldn't deny that his throat tightened just at the thought.

"It isn't always an either or thing you know." Sam teased as he stole one of Dean's fries and popped it in his mouth, still grinning. "It is possible to like both. Or maybe just a person."

"You have no idea how wrong what you're saying- I can't- I have never-"

"You are. Live it, love it, accept it, Dean."

Dean couldn't speak, so he just gaped at his brother's smug face until Cas returned from the bathroom.

"That was disgusting. That's never happened before." Cas wrinkled his nose.

"Too much information, Cas." Sam set his veggie burger down.

"Well at least I have room to fill my stomach again, right?" Cas said brightly, smiling at Dean. He tossed a fry into his mouth and let out a hum of satisfaction.

"Food is wonderful. I like food."

* * *

"No more diners for a while." Dean muttered to himself as they left. "Bad things happen at diners."

"What bad thing happened at this diner?" Cas asked. Dean forgot he had that damn Angel hearing.

"Don't worry about it." Dean sighed. Sam snickered.

"You are a… bad person." Dean sputtered and Sam's snicker turned into a roar of laughter. He still had the keys- Dean actually let him drive over for once. He spun them around his finger, pausing by the door to the Impala, deep in thought.

"Hey, I have a friend nearbye. I've been meaning to look him up since we got here, he's really into occult research and he might be able to give us some pointers."

"Great. Let's go." Just what Dean needed, a distraction.

"I can handle it alone. You two take the motel. Sounds like Cas needs it."

"Sam." Dean barked.

Sam grinned at his own joke. Castiel looked between them, confused.

"I am only moderately sleepy. I could probably nap for an hour and be fine for tomorrow." Cas said.

"Hear that? He's fine. Let's go."

"No my friend's house is within walking distance from here." Sam threw the keys to Dean. Dean caught them and smirked.

"Oh yeah? What's your friend's name?"

"Tom Smith." Sam said without hesitation.

"What does he do?"

"Welder. And occult researcher."

"Family?"

"A Wife."

"Mr. and Mrs. Smith? You kidding me with this?" Dean sighed. Damn, the kid could lie through his teeth. Law was the perfect occupational choice. Sam flashed him a smug look.

"I'm sure you'll find something to do. Maybe that whole storytelling thing that worked out so well before, for Cas' memory of course. I'll see you guys in the morning."

And then that bastard winked at him.

He walked off, heading down the block, hands in his pockets. Cas turned to Dean.

"Are we going to get drunk again? It was fun at the time, but I did not care for the next morning."

"If we are, it's going to be in a bar." Dean said, his heart suddenly speeding up. No way were they going back to that motel. Not after that wink.

"You won't make me talk to anyone, right?" Cas said, adjusting his trench coat nervously.

"No." Dean breathed, "No, I won't."

* * *

Dean felt awkward, and it was all Sam's fault. He couldn't sit still, peeling the wrapper from his beer, tossing stale nuts from the 'Colorado Bulls' plastic dish at their table down his throat even though he wasn't remotely hungry.

"Dean." Cas said mildly, taking a swig from the beer Dean bought him, "I think I'm starting to enjoy the flavor of this drink."

"Because that's an Ephraim. Best damn beer I ever drank, I'm surprised they stock it in this little piece of nowhere."

Cas sipped once more, contemplating this new information though it couldn't have meant anything to him, licking his lips. Dean watched his tongue run over his lower lip and cursed Sam once more for making him so self-conscious.

"So." Cas began. Dean realized he was staring at Cas with a very grim expression and tried to smooth it out before he noticed. "With the memories I got back, I'm pretty…. Um, how you would say, 'kickass' in some. I decided to try out some of those moves. I ended up destroying a trash can."

"Oh?" Dean grinned, grateful Cas found something to talk about before he had to.

"Yes. But then I practiced a bit, and now I'm much better at controlling my strength." Cas smiled.

"Well." Dean smacked his hand down on the table. "Let's see those moves then." Any excuse not to sit there overanalyzing every little reaction of his body.

Cas followed him out the back alley door. Two men smoked cigarettes a block away, and three dirty lamplights spotlit the dusty back road. Cigarette butts crunched under the heel of Dean's boot as he walked several paces away from the door, out in the middle of the alley, and turned to face Cas.

Cas looked like he used to for a split second- solemn, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Then Cas wasn't there anymore and Dean was pressed against the wall by a hand to his throat. Dean gasped because Cas's body pressed against him too, his chest against his, his knee parting his legs-

Dean ducked out, and if Cas was using all of his Angelic strength he sure as hell couldn't have, but Cas let him go and when Dean spun to face him Cas came at him again through that Angel teleportation thing. Dean balked at the fist heading towards his face, but then twisted right at the last moment to avoid it. He threw a punch at Cas, and Cas caught it in his fist easily, grinning at Dean. Dean grinned back as Castiel let his fist go and backed up a step into a mischievous stance of 'come and get it'. Dean realized that Cas found this fun. More surprisingly, so did he. Without the blistering pain that usually accompanied fighting, it was actually kind of enjoyable. He had never seen Cas playful before- they were always worrying about something, and Cas was usually at the forefront of that worrying.

Dean stepped forward, trying to sideswipe Cas and knock him on his ass in one swift motion, but Cas was too fast for him and before he knew it Cas had him in a headlock from behind, charging forward to press him against the wall. Dean hit it with a grunt, but it didn't really hurt. Cas was overly gentle with him.

"Got you."

Cas' breath on his ear, his body molded to his and pressing tightly against his ass-

He ripped Cas' arms from him and pushed off from the wall, backing away.

_What was that?_

_What just happened?_

Dean found himself panting and staring at Cas, while his mind exploded from the fact that he was still _goddamn hard_.

"Dean, what's wrong?"

Dean was wearing stiff jeans, so he doubted Cas could tell what he had just done to him, but he spun away from him all the same, resting a hand on his hip and catching his breath as his thoughts raced through what had just happened. Cas must have seen the change in his attitude before he turned because he kept his distance in the quiet.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No." Dean choked out. "No, I'm fine."

"Then let's go again."

Dean glanced over his shoulder.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Come on…. wuss."

Despite his spinning mind, a smile twisted his mouth.

"What did you just say, you little shit?"

"You're scared of me, huh? Pansy ass." Castiel taunted again, a lighthearted grin on his face, his eyes sparkling. Dean considered him, and he felt such a surge of affection for Cas, teasing him with names he must have learned from Dean himself, that in that moment some of his intense frustration with Sam and his damn insistence fell away. Maybe he could, possibly, be right. Maybe he felt something more than friendship for Cas. It was such a fine line, though, for him. He really couldn't quite tell what it was.

Only one way to find out.

Cas got such a look on his face when Dean let a yell loose and charged that Dean almost laughed. But he kept his battle cry going until he barreled into the angel, who was too stunned to transport away, and slammed him up against the wall as he had done to him mere moments earlier. He was rougher with Cas than Cas was with him, but Cas could take it. Dean watched his eyes as he pressed into him, pressed his whole body against him, the lapels of Cas' trench coat fisted in his hands, his mouth inches from his. As he had expected, Cas' pupils blew out into wide black orbs, his deep, sea-blue irises mere rims. He felt Cas' hardness against his thigh, and he froze. It was one thing for Cas to tell him how felt about him, another to feel it and watch the effect of his body shiver through the angel. Dean liked the sight of it in an animalistic, primitive way. A coiling heat erupted in his stomach as he watched Cas' pupils blow out and a slight brush rose to his cheeks. A beat passed, then another.

Then Castiel reminded him that while he might be absurdly naïve about everyday human interactions, Cas is one of the fiercest soldiers at God's command. Even before he poured millions of souls into his power well Cas was killing angels left and right for Dean's sake and for the sake of what he thought was right. The angels voted him, God's favorite, to lead their rebellion against Raphael for a reason, not only because of his favor in their Father's eyes but because he was fierce and formidable in battle.  
Cas pulled him the remaining few inches to his lips with a growl low in his throat. Dean let out a muffled yelp of surprise before Cas' hands trailed through his hair, roughly grabbing at the expanse between his shoulders and pressing him closer until there's no way Dean could escape.

Dean tried, in a brief moment of panic, to pull back, to deny it. He tried to deny his own surge of desire, but Cas in his sudden lust didn't hold his strength back and Dean couldn't compete with that kind of power. Dean was too close to think about it for long anyway, the heat and hardness of Cas' body driving coherent thoughts from his head. Cas' tongue against his, his thigh guided between his parted thighs and grinding against his undeniable erection, the possessive groan in his throat as he devoured Dean's whimpers and gasps, all of it chased his panicked thoughts from his head. Underneath it all, the most surprising, was the burning need to let Cas take control and mold him to the shape of his desire, to let go and give in to everything. He loved feeling so powerless in the angel's arms.

"Dean." Cas whispered as he pulled back finally, and Dean was boneless in Cas' ferocious hold on him. He felt like a rag doll in the jaws of a wolf that, with one jerk of his head, could tear him in two.

"Cas, let me go." Dean fought to keep his voice under control. Without the distraction of Castiel's kiss, those panicked thoughts pushed their way back into his head, displacing the heavenly contentment of being completely at Cas' mercy.  
Cas released him, and as Dean backed off Cas' eyes drifted down his body to his groin. Dean blushed more than he'd ever blushed before.

"Dean?" Cas said again, and it was a hopeful question. He smiled faintly. "It seems you're ignoring your own advice."

Dean thought he couldn't blush more, but he was wrong. He didn't know what to say, how to handle this situation or his own body's response.

"Dean." Cas stepped forward until he was so close Dean could smell the faint scent of alcohol and the angel trademark of clean air. Cas ran his hands up his stomach, hesitantly at first, watching Dean's reaction. Dean's breath sped up and he couldn't move, frozen in his desire. He closed his eyes as the hands ran, more sure in their touch, past his chest and gripped his shoulders firmly. He trailed fingertips along Dean's jaw, much gentler than the rough kiss he'd dragged him into, almost reverently feeling Dean's skin. "You are so beautiful." Cas whispered. Dean's breathing was shaky. He felt vulnerable to Castiel and hard as he tried he couldn't close back up, couldn't deny that his touch satisfied a deep craving in his stomach that had been there for as long as he could remember. "I did not know you would— could— want me like this. God has truly given mankind a gift… This 'sexuality'…" Cas whispered, mesmerized by Dean's lips suddenly, "… explains everything I've been wanting since I met you." He finished.  
Dean licked his lips, torn between the powerful need to let Castiel drag him back into a crushing kiss, and the necessity to take a step back, sort through all these new feelings and emotions that had taken him completely by surprise.

"Fucking faggots."

It came out of nowhere for Dean, who was lost in Cas' eyes with the decision still unmade, but it shocked him out of his head and back into reality. They were in the back alley of a bar. Cas was still caressing him, and the two smokers, who had been down the alley at the beginning of their play fight were standing a mere twenty feet away, one flicking his cigarette down and the other wrinkling his nose as he watched them. Dean knew that look from every demon and monster he'd ever fought- the look of someone gearing up for causing someone else pain.

Castiel was gone from his reach in an instant. He appeared behind the two, knocking their heads together and letting them crumple to the ground independent of each other.

"They'll wake up with well-deserved headaches." Cas said primly, wiping his hands on his coat as he surveyed his work.

Dean was shocked at how casually Cas absorbed the incident. He was sure that… he had wanted to protect Cas from something just like this. Cas seemed to notice his confusion.

"I am familiar with hate of all forms, Dean. Hate is where demons flourish, so I know its sources. I'm unfamiliar with the nuances of everyday life, not big picture problems. "

"Right." Dean muttered. Cas stepped around the two and circled back to Dean. Suddenly this was very real. Beyond the confusion over his surprising attraction to men, or maybe just Castiel Dean hadn't figure that out quite yet, they were crossing a line. This was Cas, his oldest friend, his most loyal and trusted ally. His past relationship history was littered with broken promises on both sides and fleeting passion that usually ended in an untimely death.

"Dean?" Cas asked, and he stopped farther away this time. Too far for Dean to feel his heat, taste his smell. Dean cleared his throat.

"Let's, uh, let's go back to the hotel."

The way he said it he could see Cas cooling off, shutting himself away. His open adoration simmered into that steady bare-scent of affection. They walked in silence, too far away from each other, back to the impala and drove to home for the night.

They settled awkwardly to sleep on the two twin beds, the three feet of distance between the beds a gaping chasm that haunted Dean in his dreams.

When Sam tapped hesitantly on the door, Dean almost rolled his eyes. If he and Cas hadn't ended up in a twisting embrace last night then he really would have, but turns out Sam had been partly right.

"Come in." you fucker, Dean added silently.

Sam's key twisted in the lock. He looked warily around the room like he was expecting to see it strewn with the bed comforter and hastily torn off clothes.

"Where's Cas?" Sam asked, and Dean could have sworn he heard disappointment there.

"I dunno. I woke up and he was gone."

"So you two didn't…"

"Goddamn it Sam, no." Dean frowned. Then he scratched the back of his head, briefly considering whether this was the worst idea he had ever had before deciding to do it anyway. "We kissed, though."  
A smug grin broke out on Sam's face but, thankfully and surprisingly, he didn't say a thing.

"Alright, yeah, you were right." Dean admitted. "I might…" Dean was a grown-ass man. He'd killed so many demons and watched so many people die that he knew by now that there were far, far more important things than whether you preferred men or women or both. Still, it was a big change in how he viewed himself fundamentally and it was harder to get out than he thought it might be, considering. "I might feel something for Cas."

Dean could see the 'I told you so' or 'I knew it' on the tip of Sam's eager tongue, but he shot him a look to kill thoughts of voicing such things. Dean sunk back into the bed, lacing up his shoes.

"So were you completely bullshitting Mr. Smith? Or do you actually have some sort of information on the leviathans?"

"I was completely bullshitting about him," Dean rolled his eyes before Sammy hurriedly continued, "But I did find something out that might be worth looking into on my own. Where the hell is Cas? Are things weird between you two now?"

"That's not really the most pressing issue."

"It is if we need him and he's too hurt or embarrassed or whatever reason you two didn't end up banging it out last night-"

"Jesus Sammy."

"Look, Dean, you're great at picking up girls and, you know, leaving the next morning… but I've never really seen you try something like this with someone you-"

"Try what?" Dean swallowed hard. "There's nothing to try, Sam, not right now. We've got leviathan's so far up our ass they're coming out of our eyeballs. And beyond that, Cas only remembers half of his life. He's like a totally different person right now, what can I really 'try' on him? That would be like, I don't know, taking advantage of him."  
Sammy was quiet at that, but Dean didn't particularly care for the pity in his gaze either.

"What, Sam? Just say it, I can't stand that look."

Sam sighed. He seemed to consider saying nothing before he finally decided, sat up and looked at Dean with resignation.

"Dean, I know you and everything you just said is bullshit. It all comes down to the same line you always spin- 'don't get attached, not with this job'. How many freaking times have I heard you repeat that? The sad part is that you've said it so many times, usually to me, that you actually believe you don't want it. But you do, Dean, you want it maybe more than I do, you've just denied it so much that you've convinced yourself of the opposite. If you're unattached, it's easier and you don't have to worry about hurting anyone. But Cas is different, Dean. You have a real shot at happiness here with someone who can handle our 'work'. That line doesn't apply anymore, and I think you're scared shitless without that excuse."

The breath Sammy released at the end of his little speech was that of a balloon hissing into a deflated heap.

Dean stood up, grabbed his coat, and shut the door behind him.


	3. It's Not the Same as Love

"Dean, are you _really_ still upset with me?" Dean glanced over his shoulder at his brother for barely a millisecond before returning his eyes to the tv. It was a slow night. If they didn't get some sort of tip off soon, and Dean didn't get to whack the heads off of some leviathans before the month was over, he was going to go crazy.

"Dean." Dean could practically feel the puppy eyes on the back of his neck but he kept his eyes glued to the tv. "Why are you even watching Animal Planet? You hate dogs, you're allergic to cats- I can't think of one instance where you've actually shown affection for an animal."

"It's surprisingly human," Dean grunted, squinting as a cheetah bolted past the screen.

"Then why do you hate them so much?" Sam grumbled.

"That's the slogan- Animal Planet: surprisingly human." Dean clarified temperamentally.

He heard the small scoff but still didn't turn to see it.

"Come on, we haven't seen Cas in days; how are you doing? Just talk to me, Dean."

"Sam." Dean turned to face his little brother, who was lying with his head propped up on a pile of pillows and computer on his lap. Sam looked up with intense interest and closed his computer, readying himself for a long talk, Dean supposed. "Have you been growing your hair out so we could fill our nights with braiding it, and pillow fights-"

"Alright." Sam opened his laptop again with a small huff of irritation.

"-and fake tea parties? The kind where you pour air for the dolls?" Dean finished, miming the action. Sam's eyes were now the ones glued stubbornly to a screen.

All was quiet for a good half hour.

"Hey, Cas?" Sam said loudly and suddenly. Dean jumped about a foot into the air, searching the room wildly for the angel but finding nothing. He got to his feet to check more thoroughly.

Sam looked like he was trying to suppress his smile and failing.

"Castiel, you there?"

Dean growled low in his throat.

"Stop."

"Castiel?" Sam called again. Dean did something he couldn't entirely explain then, something he hadn't done since he was in fifth grade and Ivan Eggorn teased him over his crush on Judy Vanhard in front of her:

he launched himself over the bed and onto his brother in an attempt to cover his mouth.

Sam hastily moved his computer out of harm's way before turning to struggle away from the hand Dean almost had clamped over his mouth.

"What are you doing?" A curious voice drifted to Dean's ear. Dean froze. Sam scrambled up off the bed.

"We were just having a little disagreement." Sam panted. Dean glared at him from the bed, mostly so he didn't have to look at Castiel.

"And you settled it with wrestling?" Cas squinted at Sam and tilted his head to the side.

"Best way to settle anything." Dean said briskly, rolling off the bed and trying to recover some of the tatters of his dignity.

Cas considered him with a flurry of mixed emotions before resting his gaze on Sam. Dean felt his face grow warm.

"You needed something, Sam?" Cas asked with very little of the usual intensity or exhaustion that usually accompanied his 'what the fuck did you interrupt my serious business for' inquiry.

Sam almost, _almost_, looked like he didn't have anything to say to that. But then that brief panic smoothed over into practiced calm and he spouted off-

"We have a case."

"Oh, we do?" Dean said, not even bothering to hide his disbelief.

"Yes, we do- a djinn infestation two towns over."

"And you require my assistance for this?" Cas said, eyes narrowing. "This sounds like everyday hunter business."

"Well, it is," Sam sputtered. "We just figured, you know, with you having been kind of, uh, kicked out of heaven… you might want something to do. Besides, things seem to go a lot swifter with angel firepower on our side." Sam finished quickly, eyes darting briefly to Dean's murderous stare.

"Alright." Castiel shifted on his feet. "Shall we get going, then?"

"Yeah. Absolutely." Sam looked pointedly at Dean. Cas had avoided looking at him so far, except for that first confusing glance, but now he shyly shifted his gaze to Dean. He already had a hand resting lightly on Sam's shoulder. Dean huffed once, his heart speeding up a bit, before he walked within Cas' reach. He felt the hesitancy in his light touch right before the scenery shifted.

* * *

"Sammy, stay with me. Sammy!" Dean slapped the side of his face frantically as his brother sagged in his arms for the second time that night. He had caught the blue-armed bastard that poisoned him, injected him with the blood, but he only woke up for half a second before passing out again.

"Cas, do something!" Dean called. Cas was still dueling the remaining pissed-off djinn.  
"It didn't work?" Cas grunted as he blocked a hit from the monster.

"We're losing him! It didn't work!" Dean's voice was a growl of panic now. No way was his brother going to die from a freaking djinn. No way had he survived Lucifer, Hell and the apocalypse just to die now from some blue-armed fucker that Dean could take out in his sleep.

"I can't heal him." The edge of panic there was unmistakable. Dean's heart plummeted into the ground. "What do you know?" Cas snarled as he gained the upper hand and slammed the djinn's face into a hard brick wall. The sickening crunch of a nose breaking filled Dean's ears, but it wasn't enough. He needed answers and he needed them now. Sammy had moments left and that was it.

"I will rip your head off." Cas growled, and Dean knew it believed him.

"My- my brother. We poisoned him together." She gasped.

Dean scrambled for the syringe still sticking out of Sam's arm. He stabbed the dead djinn a few feet away before speeding back to his brother's side and plunging the syringe into a large vein on Sam's arm.

"Come on, Sammy, don't you dare die on me. Not now." Dean muttered under his breath. He heard Cas rip the creature's head off behind him, making good on his threat despite the creature's answer.

Moments passed where Dean prayed reverently to he didn't know who or what.

Sammy let a wet gasp go as he started to breathe again. Dean pulled him into a fierce hug.

"Don't do that! Damn it, Sam!" He muttered into Sam's sweat-wet hair. Sam was still gasping, but he grasped Dean's arm with considerable strength.

"I'm ok, I'm alright." Sam panted. "I'm fine, Dean."

_No thanks to me. _

* * *

"Dean. You should not be here. Sam is looking for you." Cas' voice accompanied his appearance by his side. Dean was on his fifth beer. He couldn't answer, mostly because Cas was right. He shouldn't be in a bar by himself at three in the morning.

"Have one beer with me, Cas." Dean said, managing not to slurr his words too badly.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Dean. I think you should go home and get some sleep."

"Just go, then, alright? I'm a fucking adult, I don't need a babysitter." Dean muttered. He felt, rather than saw, Cas flinch. In the silence following he had to make himself turn to see the pain on his face.

"Alright." Cas said softly, a low whisper, avoiding his eyes. Dean's hand shot out to grab him, almost against his will.

"I just- My first responsibility is to Sammy. You have to understand that."

"I do." Cas said, looking defensive. "I have never asked for anything from you."

"You don't have to." Dean whimpered, the alcohol muddling his brain and breaking down his careful barriers. "I forgot about him, Cas." His voice was wrecked and broken and he couldn't hide it, not after that fifth beer. "You're all human-like now, an' I saw how sick you looked after it dosed you, and I just completely forgot about Sammy. He was watching my back and it was my job to watch his, but I was so worried about you-" Dean drew in a sharp breath, the guilt cutting him off short. He didn't deserve the soft look of awe in Cas' eyes. He had abandoned Sam and Sam had nearly died and it would have been _completely_ _his fault_.

"It's always just been the two of us. We looked out for each other. Just us two." It was so frustrating how beautiful Cas' eyes were when he was trying so hard not to want him as much as he did.

"I understand Dean. I didn't mean to-"

"Your lips," Dean interrupted him. "I hate your lips. They're so distracting." Cas' tongue flicked out to wet the bottom lip Dean was staring at. He looked hesitant, his eyes darting everywhere but at Dean, a faint flush rising to his cheeks at Dean's scrutiny.

Dean wrapped a hand around the back of Cas' neck, stroking the soft hairs that gathered into his scalp, and pressed a finger to the line of his jaw to feel the very human stubble that had started there. Cas muttered something incomprehensible before Dean leaned in, wanting more than anything to taste those lips and see if they were as delicious as they looked, as he remembered.

He probably had the element of surprise because Cas let out a muffled groan as Dean sealed his lips to his. He pressed his tongue against Cas' and sighed as that warm, buoyant feeling filled him.

"Dean." Cas whispered as Dean pulled back. They were in the motel room now, and Sam was looking away like he'd witnessed a murder. "You need to sleep this off."

"Son of a bitch." Dean sighed as he realized where they were.

"Do you know how worried I've been? At least turn on your phone when you disappear for hours! I thought some more djinn had kidnapped you, maybe you were already dead and I was too late. I was looking everywhere." Spots of red had started high up on Sam's cheeks.

"Oops." Dean glanced down at his phone and noticed the 90 missed calls from his brother. He must have silenced it accidentally.

"Oops?!" Sam repeated, gesturing wildly.

"You're better off without me." Dean mumbled. "I almost got you killed. Almost… almost forgot." He slumped into Cas' side, suddenly very tired, and a strong arm gripped his shoulder to keep him upright. It was very warm…

"Dean." Sam's tone was softer now, more forgiving. "I didn't die, and you were helping Cas after that monster poisoned him. I don't blame either of you."

"Can't-" Dean mumbled, but the world was darkening and it was so comfortable nestled into Cas' shoulder. "Can't, Cas. I have responsibilities."

"Oh, Dean." Sammy's exasperation was the last thing he heard before he drifted into the darkness.

* * *

Dean woke up with the mother of all hangovers. Also, Cas was on his bed, watching him sleep.

Dean jerked back, checking for clothes on both of them before his panic subsided into dull confusion.

"Cas, what the hell are you doing?" Dean muttered, scrubbing a hand over his eyes as the light pierced into them.

"Sam went to get breakfast," Cas said instead of answering his question.

There was about a half a foot of distance between them on the tiny twin bed, and even that small distance was only because Cas was on his side.

"Well, hallelujah. Though I would be fine with just a bottle of aspirin to swallow down." Dean croaked as his head throbbed.

"I should probably let you suffer a little for what you did to Sam last night," Cas sighed dramatically and reached out a finger to Dean's forehead. Suddenly everything was Technicolor and pain-free. "But you've already suffered enough for ten men's lifetimes." He finished softly.

Dean was caught in his hard blue eyes once more. Cas sat up on the side of the bed.

"It was my fault, Dean."

Dean blinked a few times, adjusting to the complete lack of hangover, and scooted into a sitting position. Someone had taken his shoes off, but he was still dressed in his clothes from the night before. Well, _morning_ before, really.

"I caused so much pain in heaven… I killed so many of my brothers and sisters… I'm afraid to go back and see what I've done. That's why I'm falling now."

"But you said-"

"I know what I said." Cas' gravelly voice was harsh. He sounded like the old Cas, the one who liked to preach about good and evil and greater responsibility and God. "I… lied to you so you wouldn't worry. I am losing my grace slowly, bit by bit. That's why I could not heal Sam yesterday and why I can barely heal you this morning. I am turning human. Soon I will be completely useless to you."

Without knowing why, but with no thought as to why _not_, Dean moved closer until he was directly behind him and rested his hand on Castiel's shoulder. Cas leaned into the touch with a small sound of relief, hallway between a moan and a sigh. The sound sent a thrill of excitement through Dean.

"Cas… you have to go back."

Cas looked like Dean had hit him. Dean realized he should probably clarify.

"There is no scenario, past, present or future, where I would consider you useless. Would you say the same of a war hero who was gunned down in battle? Is he useless?"

"Dean." Cas' voice ached with sorrow. "I am no hero."

"You are a soldier. You've done some… misguided things."

"I slaughtered my brothers and sisters." Cas moaned, and the pain in his eyes was not something Dean could stand. His hand was pressed to the side of Cas' cheek in a second.

"Was your purgatory plan the best pig at the county fair? I'll be the first to say no. But when you killed those angels… that was all on the leviathans. They were poisoning your mind, Cas. I could see them in there, working away at you. You didn't have much control over your actions at the time."

"Don't make excuses for me." Cas groaned, covering his face and moving away from Dean's touch. "I used my own hands, my own blade."

Dean gently unfolded Cas' fingers from his face, and Cas gazed steadily into his eyes, deep sapphire jumping between forest green.

"Falling is not always a fast, hard plummet from the heavens to the dirt." He mumbled, and the pain in his voice was receding to awe as he tentatively stroked Dean's lower lip. "Sometimes it's slow and steady as the sound of a human's heartbeat."

A shiver raced down his spine as Cas stroked the sensitive skin of his lower lip.

Something flared in Cas' eyes and Dean felt the same thing rise up in him. Somehow they were kissing again, fast and wild and desperate, because _God_, Dean needed it. He needed the rush of comfort in his stomach as Cas gasped into his ear and bit at the lobe, the sense of peace that settled in his chest as Cas pushed him back and climbed onto his lap. They were going after each other like animals, and yet Dean had never felt so calm in his life.

A hum of pleasure passed his lips and he held Cas to him, clutched at the knots of muscle in his back and pulled him closer, closer until he couldn't breathe anything but Cas.

They stayed like that for a while, kissing and moaning and whimpering into each other's mouths. Eventually the flame died down until Cas pressed his forehead against Dean's, panting and staring him down with that look of his. Eventually his eyes began to droop and he rested his cheek against the side of Dean's neck. Dean liked the weight of him, liked how he could feel him breathing softly against his shoulder, his chest pressing against Dean in a slow rhythm. It had been so long since he'd touched another person like this, and he'd never touched another person _quite_ like this, not even Lisa. He'd loved Lisa, as much as he thought his jaded, broken heart was capable of loving another person, but he'd never just listened to her breathe while she slept. He thought about gently rolling Cas to the side, tucking him in like Cas had done for him and watching him sleep for a bit. He would have to leave before he woke up because he couldn't have him knowing that he wanted that, not yet.

* * *

Dean was out burying the two djinn when Cas appeared, bleary-eyed and combing a hand through his rumpled hair.

"You hungry?" Dean panted as he rested on his shovel.

"Yes." Cas mumbled. "Still tired, too."

Dean had to hide a smirk. Cas wasn't exactly handling the transition to humanity gracefully.

"I think-" Cas squinted at him and sniffed quizzically. "I think my clothes… are starting to smell…"

"I think you're right."

Cas drifted closer, but when he tried to rest his head on Dean's shoulder, Dean backed away. Cas tensed, eyes filling with hurt before they cleared into a carefully neutral mask.

"What?"

"Look," Dean swallowed hard. He didn't want to talk about that morning. He didn't. He had to, but he would give anything not to. "What happened this morning… we both needed it. But this-" Dean gestured between them, avoiding Cas' eyes and focusing on the ground as he did. "-this can't go on, Cas. Sam needs me, and I need you to get your memories back, and we need to figure out this crap with the leviathans. We can't- I can't lose my brother because I'm too focused on… on whatever it is we have going on. That's all I've ever been good for, protecting Sammy, and I don't want to have to tell you that you'll always come second, because you will. You deserve someone who puts you first, who _can_ put you first. I'll help you any way that I can as a friend, but what happened last night… it can't happen again."

Cas was silent, his expression shifting from restless, raw pain to unrestrained sorrow. Dean faltered on every word when he saw tears actually start to shine in Cas' eyes, but he pushed himself to keep going until the words were tumbling quickly out of his mouth and he just wanted it done, over. As he went on, Cas darkened. He narrowed his eyes and the tears dried before they fell. He clenched his fists at his sides and waited for Dean to finish before he hissed out in his low voice-

"Do you _really think_ it's your place to tell me who I can love?" Dean couldn't help the shudder of desire that passed through him at the fury in Cas' voice. He found himself backing up as the angel stalked toward him, tripping and falling on a clump of dirt he had yet to pat down with his shovel.

Cas didn't offer to help him up. Instead, he glowered down at him,

"You think you can tell me I deserve better than you? After _everything I've done_ to show you how much you're worth to me?" He spat. His eyes were starting to glow. Actually, all of Cas was glowing, faintly at first and then stronger until Dean had to shield his eyes.

"Then you use _Sam as an excuse_?" Dean let out a whimper against his will as the hot light started to burn into his skin, and especially his eyes. The sound wrenched Cas from his livid trance and the light started to die down as quickly as it began up.

Dean heard Cas laboring to breathe, as though whatever that white light was had exerted him more than he anticipated it would. He looked sick and pale when Dean finally chanced to look at him.

"Bite me, Dean." He spat out before disappearing.

"Cas!" Dean cried, the silence eerie in the wake of the strange ringing that accompanied Cas' glowing. His voice was a bit more broken than he could explain. "Cas!"


	4. I Don't Want To Miss A Thing

Cas didn't return the next day, or the next, or the week after that. After his worry overcame his fear and rabid guilt toward the angel, Dean prayed to him every day to return.

They plugged a Japanese alcohol demon, which was, admittedly, the most sloshed Dean had ever been on the job and it kind of took the edge off. They took care of an old ghost hotel, and Dean had a chance to talk to Bobby again. Though it concerned him that Bobby hadn't gone into the light yet, Dean was glad nonetheless to see his mentor's face.

"Idjit. Think I don't know what you and your angel have been up to?" He revealed indelicately. Dean blushed up to his ears. "You've got to get over it, son. Just let it go. Love like that… well, it's not just something you can buy in a convenience store and return because you kept the receipt. Shape up, boy. Don't give me another reason to go vengeful spirit on your ass."

Bobby tried to joke, but Dean couldn't hear it as a joke when Bobby was already headed down that dark path.

Dean would lie awake at night and pray, quietly, to Cas. He would whisper that he's sorry, that he shouldn't have pushed him away like that. He got angry sometimes and accused Castiel of punishing him, making him worry so goddamn much without bothering to let him know he wasn't leviathan lunch.

* * *

It wasn't until the fiasco with the tablet and prophet kid that Cas finally re-entered Dean's life, and in the worst way possible, too.

Meg found them somehow. Dean was eating fucking rabbit food with Sammy in the goddamn park like lunching old ladies, after the leviathans finally released their poisonous additives into the population and he had no choice in the matter, when she made her appearance.

"Mighty fine day for a picnic, boys."

"Mighty fine day for some demon slayin'." Dean replied cheerfully, gripping his dagger tight at his waist where it was concealed beneath his coat.

"Oh, I wouldn't kill the messenger before she's delivered her goods." Meg grinned at him. She was a dark shadow against the bright sky from Dean's low standpoint on the grass.

"And what's the message?" Sam asked.

"I've got something you want. I'll be more than happy to turn him over to you… but I'm a freaking demon. I'm going to need something in return."

"He? He?" Dean jumped up off the ground so fast he dropped his banana. "Tell me where he is now or I swear to God-"

"Settle down chipmunk, what I have to bargain is easy to give. I need your word you won't kill me. Also, your allegiance. Temporarliy."

"I will kill you if you don't tell me where he is in the next five seconds." Dean's voice was shaking now. He knew there was something wrong. Cas wouldn't punish him with the silent treatment.

Sam grabbed him and stepped between him and Meg.

"Just wait, Dean. Why do you want our allegiance?"

"You think pissing off the King of Hell wins you friends? In _hell,_ where no one knows the meaning of the word to begin with?" Meg drawled, eyes darting between the brothers. "Look, you're the only ones with balls big enough to try to chop off his. I'm not free until he's gone. It's an organic process, sweet cheeks."

"Fine. Whatever you want. Just bring us to him." Dean grit out through his teeth.

"We can't guarantee allegiance, but we won't actively plot against you if you continue to be friendly with us." Sam added.

Meg eyed him.

"Well, that's pretty piss poor but it's probably the best I'll get and I really want to kill Crowley. I've got your angel stashed in my trunk."

Dean bit out some curses that caused Meg's eyebrows to shoot up and a mildly amused smile to flit onto her face before she turned without another word. Dean stalked after her, fingering his blade with longing.

Meg stopped at a car she must have stolen, navy blue with darkened windows and new tires. She popped the trunk and there was Cas, curled into the fetal position, staring blankly ahead.

Dean spat out a few more curses then and immediately reached in to haul Cas out. Cas didn't help much, only moving the way Dean directed him to, with that same sickly blank look on his face. His skin was greyer than Dean had ever seen it, and he didn't seem to register Sam or Dean's presence. He stood fine on his own, once Dean got him standing.

"What did you do to him?" Dean checked Cas' temperature and felt his clammy cheeks, alarmed by the dead look in his eyes and the sickly color of his visage.

"_I_ didn't do anything to him. He's been eating the people food. Guess he missed the memo on that when you two were busy being bad friends."

"No he watched the news with us, he knew this was coming. He knew." Dean said quickly to Sam, confused.

"Couple of demons nabbed him and were on their way to Crowley. Lucky for you I still have connections, if reluctant ones, and I heard they'd captured Clarence here and rescued him."

"Then stuffed him in a trunk." Dean muttered, irked by her portrayal of herself as a hero.

"He's an angel. I'm a demon. Easy way to get fried, letting your guard down around one of them." She defended herself coolly.

"How long has it been since he last ate the additives? Will it be out of his system soon?" Dean couldn't keep his eyes off Cas. Even the color of his hair seemed to have diminished in the weeks since he'd seen him. It was a muted, mousy brown and it scared the shit out of Dean.

"Well…" Meg said.

"You've been dosing him." Sam concluded, narrowing his eyes at her with a look of disgust.

"I repeat- angel, demon." She pointed to Cas and then to herself. "I had to keep Clarence docile so he wouldn't try to smite me."

"Fuck you, Meg."

"Yeah, you're welcome for saving your buddy and hand delivering him to you." Meg said, unfazed. "Jeez, what's up his butt?"

"Well, 'don't mess with Cas' is rule number one." Sam said, his eyes flicking between them. Dean waved a hand in front of Cas' eyes; nothing.

"Epic bromance, huh? You jealous?" Meg quirked an eyebrow. At Sam's silence, Meg grew disappointed. "So it's like that, is it? Too bad. I was hoping for a tumble in the sheets with Clarence once his noodle cleared up. He's pretty cute when his eyes aren't as empty as the pits of hell."

A snarl rose unbidden from Dean's mouth.

"I wouldn't count on it." Sam said with a slight smile.

* * *

Well, Dean was in a mood. He was done. Done with dealing with crazy shit while worrying about his best friend and possible love interest, especially when every plan they had fell to hell. They were taking a weekend before leaping back into this goddamn impossible fray.

They arrived at the cabin with Meg complaining loudly about the need for a demon trap under her bed. Sam was in full bitchface mode, as Dean had let him argue with the obnoxious demon for most of the ride.

"You sleep in a Demon Trap or we dump you on the side of the road to find your own place to sleep."

"You realize I have no problem slitting the throat of some apartment owner for a bed, right?" Meg looked irritable. "God it's like you forgot I'm a demon."

"You must have forgotten that we're hunters." Dean spoke up for the first time in over an hour. "This truce isn't that stable, scum. You threaten innocent people and we will still end you."

"I just want to be able to get up to pee in the middle of the night, alright?"

"We'll give you a bucket." Sam's voice was iron.

Meg rolled her eyes in turn, but she turned her eyes to the window.

"Meg." Cas muttered, staring out his backseat window. Dean straightened from the slouch he'd sunk into listening to Meg's whining.

"Did he just say something?" Dean asked Sam urgently.

"I think so. What's up Cas?"

"Meg is... a demon." Cas muttered again, slow, like he couldn't quite process his own words.

"That's right, Cas. You starting to recognize people again, huh?" Dean might've said it too brightly, but if Cas was talking without a prompt it must mean that those Leviathan additives were wearing off and that thought caused Dean's heart to roll over.

"Meg." Cas repeated.

* * *

All was still in the cabin. Cas was tucked into the guest room bed with a homemade quilt pulled up to his chin, Meg was safely snoozing above a Devil's Trap in the backseat of the impala, and Dean assumed Sam was off to bed on the couch. Sam had willingly volunteered himself for the couch before Dean could say anything, and Dean tried not to think too much into that and where Sam expected him to sleep.

Dean shut off the water as he zipped his toothbrush in his travel bag, his thoughts on Kevin Tran and how they were going to rescue the poor bastard.

Cas' flat blue eyes kept intruding on those thoughts, though.

Dean checked to make sure Sam was still asleep before creeping to the bedroom where Cas was sound asleep.

He looked less like an emotionless wreck with his lifeless eyes closed in sleep. Dean had seen sullen Cas, sarcastic Cas, eager-to-please Cas, angry Cas, and, on the rare occasion, happy Cas, but Dean couldn't remember a time when he'd seen Cas so damn peaceful.

Maybe Dean should try some of that Leviathan additive for sleeping when this was all over.

Dean found himself drifting into the room, hand trailing along the pretty red and gold quilt and up to Cas' scratchy, stubbly cheek.

"I thought you'd died on me again." Dean whispered, stroking his thumb along the planes of his face.

Dean had a hard enough time hugging his own family. He always wanted to show more affection, but it just felt… weird. Wrong, somehow. Maybe because he wanted touch so desperately that he was afraid someone might recognize that.

Whatever it was that usually held Dean back, it held him back now. He wanted to climb under the covers and hold Cas until he woke up, hopefully more like himself than he'd been today. Meg mentioned something about Cas still being partly Angel, that the additives wouldn't affect him for as long as a normal human.

However long it would take, Dean wasn't that patient.

In the end, he won out over himself. He did climb into the bed. He did, if awkwardly, wrap his arms around Cas and listen to the other man breathe steady and slow. He tucked his chin, tentatively, along Cas' shoulder and inspected the curling hair behind Cas' ears, stroking it briefly just out of pure curiousity as to how it would feel, before his eyelids drifted farther and farther down and Dean couldn't hold them open any longer.

* * *

When morning light peaked through the faded curtains, Cas was already awake and (surprise surprise) watching him. Dean didn't jump nearly as high or as quickly as he had in previous situations where he'd woken up to Cas watching him.

"You slept with me." Cas said simply. His eyes were still a little hazy, but sharper than the day before by far. His coloring, overall, had improved from its previous greyscale.

"Yeah. You scared the hell outta me. Had to make sure you weren't goin' nowhere." Dean mumbled, wanting to curl back into the first sound night of sleep he'd had in weeks.

"You said nothing more should happen between us." His intense eyes never left Dean.

"That was before you went and got yourself kidnapped." Dean sighed, aligning his body more comfortably next to Cas. He hoped Cas would let it go. He really didn't want to talk about it.

"So," Cas' forehead crinkled in confusion, "you want to be together now?" The hesitant hope and defensiveness in Cas' voice made Dean shiver.

"Yeah." Dean stared hard at the tendons in Cas' neck. "Yeah, I guess so." _If the alternative is not to have you at all. _"If you still want to, that is. I know I was a dick to you." Dean chanced a look at Cas' face, but he couldn't read anything there. He decided to just surge forward on the off chance that Cas would still accept his sorry ass. "But Cas, don't… don't expect too much out of me. I'm not good at this. I don't do… feelings. I don't talk about… well, _this stuff_." Dean huffed, already feeling unbearably awkward. He kept remembering the hole in his heart when Cas left, and he couldn't let that happen again; so he would push through it, say the words Cas needed to hear, and try. Dean could try. "It really sucked when you were gone, and I don't want that again."

"I have been gone before, Dean." Cas said gently, twisting in Dean's arms until their chests were pressed together and the full heat of Cas sunk through him. He was like a radiator on such a cold morning. "You never had any epiphanies over our relationship."

"I didn't know I wanted a… relationship… then." Dean said quietly.

"So you do?" Cas asked again.

"Dude, don't make me repeat it." Dean felt like burrowing into Cas' shoulder, but that would be way uncool. So he just sort of awkwardly looked awkward and avoided Cas' eyes while a small smile started on Cas' lips. Dean hadn't seen that smile before. "You have to… I can't talk about this stuff, ok? That's just part of the package. Sorry Cas." Dean said. He was not blushing. Dean Winchester didn't _blush_.

Cas draped an arm over Dean's side, rubbing soothing circles into his side through his shirt. Cas snuggled closer, their faces impossibly close now. Dean could feel his breath on his cheek, but still Cas didn't kiss him. He just looked, looked over everything that Dean was, every freckle.

"Dude." Dean _was not blushing_.

"You said no talking. I'm not talking." Cas grinned, full on grinned, at Dean, but then it faded to actual concern. "Does it bother you?"

"No." Dean said, dropping his gaze. He felt Cas smile more than he saw it.

"I missed you too, but I always miss you so that was nothing new for me." Cas whispered, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Dean.

Dean didn't have anything to say to that so he just closed his eyes and tried to ignore how weird it was that he and Cas were being fucking _romantic_.

"You say 'dude' a lot when you're uncomfortable." Cas observed sleepily. Dean opened his eyes briefly as a smile of exasperation hit him. Even though it made him mildly uncomfortable, he was equal parts happy and comfortable.

Dean could try.


End file.
